


Burnt & Broken

by Amelia_Clark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: & some throwing things, Anger, Angst, Catharsis, Drinking, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Episode: s09e08 Rock and a Hard Place, Fight Sex, I'm pretty pissed at canon right now, M/M, this is mostly yelling, this is pretty dang depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia_Clark/pseuds/Amelia_Clark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Dude. She was a born-again virgin porn star, and I totally nailed her. Cause I’m just that good.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Dude. She was a born-again virgin porn star, and I totally nailed her. Cause I’m just that good.”_

Dean’s drunk, of course, that’s the point of this bunker bro-down, but he doesn’t realize he’s way too drunk until he’s already said it, and Cas’s face has crumpled in on itself like newspaper in a fire.

At least at first. There’s this lightning-quick collapse in Cas’s features; his eyes darken, from the sky-blue of morning to the sky-gray of twilight, and then all semblance of feeling disappears. He’s just an angel on a tomb, indifferent, carved from marble, motionless except for the twitch in his jaw. Cas pours himself another shot of bourbon, downs it in a gulp, and throws the glass across the room to shatter against the library wall.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he shouts.

__The others are aghast—Sam’s glass frozen mid-sip, Kevin reflexively lifting his bare feet off the floor—but Cas's rage hits Dean full-on, and he has a moment of sheer terror before he remembers Cas can't smite him anymore._ _

__"Why would you tell me this?" Cas continues, his voice calmer but still dangerous. "Why would you do that to me?"_ _

__"To _you_? What the hell are you talking about, Cas? My getting laid doesn't have anything to do with you."_ _

__Cas flexes his fist on the table, the knuckles white with tension. "You know that's not true, Dean. You know I'm in love with you."_ _

__"Yeah, I'm not on board for this," Sam mutters, springing to his feet. "Kevin. Mario Kart?"_ _

__The prophet nods, and they quickly vacate the premises, the half-empty bottle of Kentucky Gentleman in tow._ _

__And then it's just Dean and Cas, again: Cas furious, Dean at a loss, and they're back in the alley, back in the crypt, their choices narrowed to two. Dean's ready for a fight—he can take Cas human, he knows he's finally the stronger one._ _

__He tries not to think about the other possibility._ _

__"I don't understand you," Cas says, suddenly quiet. He's up and pacing, looking anywhere but at Dean. "I love you—dammit, I love you so much I gave up everything I had—but I cannot understand why you would take pride in such a thing, in breaking a vow for the sake of fleeting pleasure. You violated her, Dean. And then you brought back the story to hurt me."_ _

__"I didn't! I didn't mean to. I didn't—" Dean's about to say he didn't know how Cas felt, but the lie won't cross his lips. He knows Cas wouldn't have defied Heaven for anyone else. And he knows he wouldn't have forgiven anyone else—so many times he's had to forgive Cas, so many betrayals and omissions and abandonments._ _

__If that's love, love is a bitter brutal thing, but it's all they've got._ _

__So what he says is "You did it too."_ _

__Cas stops, his eyebrows a familiar quirk of confusion. "What did I do?"_ _

__"Had sex without me. That reaper. You love me so fucking much, why'd you give it up to some random chick?" Dean's standing now too, hands flat on the table, his heart pounding and the whiskey burning in his gut like a knife._ _

Cas throws a chair, the back splintering on the bricks. "She killed me, Dean. She fucked me, and then she _killed_ me. That's not enough atonement for you? For the terrible, terrible sin of not saving myself for that imaginary world where you want me enough to do something about it?" 

__Before he knows he's doing it, Dean stalks across the room and crowds Cas against the wall, pulling his shirt tight against his throat and pinning his shoulders. He’s so close Cas’s breath is hot on his cheek, those furious blue eyes all he can see. "And what am I supposed to do, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do about you, Cas?"_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas twists ineffectively against Dean’s hold, hands clutching at his flannel. “I don’t know,” he growls. “What are you going to do with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeepers, this is bleak. I need hot cocoa and a purring cat, stat.

Cas twists ineffectively against Dean’s hold, hands clutching at his flannel. “I don’t know,” he growls. “What are you going to do with me?”

Their faces are so close, closer than they’ve ever been in all the years of infringing on personal space. His eyes squeezed shut, Dean realizes his own hands are clenching and unclenching on the fabric of Cas’s shirt in time with the beating of his heart. And what’s more, that his hips are rolling against the other man’s, unbidden, in that same stuttering rhythm. “I don’t know,” groans Dean, taking a step back.

“I do,” says Cas. “You want to kiss me, but you’re going to hit me.”

Dean’s eyes snap open, flick down to Cas’s slightly parted lips. “Why would you think that?”

Cas shrugs in his grip. “Because that’s what I want to do.”

Dean lets go but doesn’t move away. “Why’d you have to say it?” he whispers. “It was OK—I could pretend that—we could keep going, as long as you didn’t _say_ it.” 

“I don’t know,” Cas says, sullen, and kicks him sharply in the shin, unbalancing him enough to spin them round, nails digging into Dean’s wrists as he slams him against the wall. “Why couldn’t you pass up the chance to nail a porn star? Why’d you throw me out on the street? Why can’t I fucking stay away from you?”

He leans in, tongue darting across his lower lip. “Do it,” whimpers Dean. “Please, just do it.”

And Cas hits him.

There’s not enough space between them for anything but a glancing blow, but Dean’s caught off guard, and his head smacks hard enough that he sees stars.

It's a relief, really, to have this decided for him—violence is simple, pure, so much easier to deal with than the snarl of emotions Cas dredges up. Dean sighs, stops thinking, and punches him in the jaw.

They wrestle in near-silence for a moment, arms braced on each other's shoulders. Dean's got the advantage—gravedigging builds a shit-ton of upper body strength—but Cas's anger is flooding him with adrenaline, so he's not the pushover he should be. Still, Dean eventually manages to push them away from the wall and over to the table, where Cas lands flat on his back with a crash.

Cas is panting with effort, shoving at Dean’s chest even as his legs come off the floor and lock around his waist. He winces as Dean grabs his chin, thumb pressing into his bruised jaw, and grinds against him helplessly, gasping as their cocks align through denim, hard and hot.

"Fuck yes," Dean says, pulling his face up for a kiss that's mostly teeth. Cas burrows his hand beneath Dean's shirts and rakes his nails across his back.

"Yes," says Cas, “fuck,” and bites down on his shoulder.

Although he’d never say it out loud, Dean’s pictured this scene a hundred times before—jacking off in the shower, screwing a bartender in a graffiti’d stall—but not like this, never like this. In his fantasies, they were always smiling, they were someplace soft, there were murmured words of, if not love, at least affection, kindness, connection. But as he stumbles under Cas’s weight, colliding with a pillar as he backs them towards the nearest closed door, he admits to himself that was always wishful thinking.

He and Cas? They’re not gonna ride off into the sunset together. They’re gonna fuck each other raw in a dusty closet, and it’s no better than he deserves.


End file.
